Mmmm – veggie chilli!

A small study has unearthed some evidence that eating peppers regularly may, possibly, reduce the risk of getting Parkinson’s. It’s not conclusive evidence, but peppers are rather good for you anyway, so there won’t be any harm in eating them more often.

Apparently peppers contain a large amount of nicotine – this, combined with previous studies that suggested that smoking also reduced the risk of getting Parkinson’s, was the reason that the study was initiated.

Read Parkinson’s UK’s comments on the research.

I wonder if peppers might also help to slow the progression of the condition?

Related posts:

• “Mediterranean” Style Diet helps fend off Parkinson’s?

This post is about a fridge magnet.

I’ve got a few small magnets (that I got printed for free by Vistaprint) that show my painting Green Wellies (In My Shoes). It was painted – and sold – for charity (Parkinson’s UK). So, the magnets are also for sale, for the same charity, except they are a bit cheaper. And they stick to your fridge.

They are on a “buy it now” option at eBay and cost £1 plus postage.

This is a cross-post from my art blog.

The third (and probably final) “In My Shoes” painting. I have been known to wear these boots on a painting expedition…

Acrylic on canvas, 30 x 30 cm

Now listed on eBay – proceeds to Parkinson’s UK

—-

These boots weren’t expensive, but they are very comfortable. They’ve got a low lacing pattern (helps with my long, narrow feet!), a roomy toe space (allowing me to stretch my dystonic toes) and they’re soft enough that my toes don’t rub on the upper. They have plenty of support and a decent grip underfoot – but the label claiming that they are waterproof lies. They might have been so, once, but I suspect that the waterproof membrane has worn through (they have a nasty tendency to do that). I shall have to apply external waterproofing at some stage; there’s a fair few miles left in these.

The laces themselves cause a problem ocasionally, but my medication is working well enough to minimise it – at the moment I’m just a little bit slow.

This is a cross-post from my art blog.

There are two things that wellies have every right to be: green, and muddy. These fit the bill.
(They don’t, however, fit me. They belong to my son, who has yet to catch up with me in foot size. And his name is not Bill, as it happens.)
Acrylic on canvas, 40 x 30 cm.

Don’t forget the charity auction for the Cowboy Boots!

As it happens, I’m not fond of wearing wellies. My narrow feet slop around in their one-size-fits-all generosity, and this uncertainty (and general lack of support) confuses my dystonic toes even more.

This is a cross-post from my art blog.

They may not be the most authentic cowboy boots, but they are the only ones I own. They are also possibly the most paintable item of footwear I own, in keeping with the theme, “In My Shoes”.

I’d wanted a pair of cowboy boots for ages, but they were always too expensive, especially as I have awkwardly sized feet. These were in Next a few years back at a reasonable(ish) price and Next (sometimes) do my size. They are totally impractical; too high to drive in, too sloppy to cycle, run, or walk any distance in. And suede isn’t very practical at the best of times. But they look kind of nice.

I had to stuff paper into the foremost boot to get it to stand up. I decided that the one at the back didn’t need to be upright.

Here’s the in-progress sequence:

The underpainting – done with a brush – was burnt umber and ultramarine. The knife work on top was CMYK (Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and blacK – printer ink colours!) heavy body acrylic.

Acrylic on canvas, 30 x 30 cm

For sale – all proceeds to Parkinson’s UK

Being female, I do, of course, have lots of shoes. Being me, very few of them go with dresses.

I’ve always had a slightly unconventional attitude to shoes, especially to shopping for them. This is largely explained by the size of my feet, which are large. Well, they are a UK 9 (European 43), or one size larger than the majority of High Street shoe retailers tend to make or stock. This is quite frustrating. My feet are narrow, too, which makes mens’ shoes a less viable option, although styles that lace low on the foot (walking boot styles) are quite good.

Damn. Parkinson’s takes away the fine motor control required to tie laces.

But at the moment, the drugs go some way to restore that fine motor control. I can tie laces – just a little slower than I might like. Even so, velcro is a favoured option when buying new shoes.

Like the ones in the picture.

But velcro isn’t really as good as laces. You can’t pull it as tight (useful for uneven ground. And hills. I like hills*). I’m not convinced that it’s as secure. But it’s okay for tarmac and office work. And it works pretty well on a bicycle.

Actually, velcro is better on a bicycle. No risk of your laces catching on the pedals or – horrors! – in the chain.

*Qualification: I like hills on foot (and in paintings). I prefer no hills (or failing that, small ones) on a bicycle.

I like these shoes (which are ladies shoes; they’re made by Hotter, a British company who emphasise comfort but have largely avoided the “old lady shoe” trap associated with the term “comfortable shoes”. And they make 9s! In everything! Including shoes that are waaaay too girly for me to wear to anything but a wedding). These shoes are easy to put on and take off and they’re comfortable in between. I’ve managed to convince myself that they’re just about smart enough for office wear, and they’re great for a lunchtime bike ride. And the leather is soft enough on the top that my dystonic toes don’t give themselves blisters.

Oh, yes. Dystonia. Another of Parkinson’s little oddities.

I’ve written about dystonia before. (You’ll find all the relevant posts here.) It essentially means that my toes distort themselves by variously curling up, or sticking up, or both. What’s new is that some shoes (not these ones) end up rubbing on the top surface of the second toe on my left foot, and recently it’s been bad enough to generate a blister. A plaster will readily prevent the injury, but it is still jolly annoying, especially if I forget to apply the preventative plaster.

But I thought that it was worth posting it here.

The statistics are:

One person in every 500 has Parkinson’s. (That’s the coloured skitttle.)
Most are diagnosed over the age of 50, but one in 20 is under the age of 40. (That’s the pink bit.)

Basically, one person in every 2,500 gets diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson’s before they hit 40. (It’s still Young Onset below the age of 50, I believe, but I haven’t found what the statistics are for the extra ten years.)

But he concludes with the following, which resonated somewhat with me:

Perhaps this is what PD means to me – it means that I must do rather than merely experience. I find reading nigh-on impossible these days. But I write a lot.

It makes a perverse sort of sense.

- Pete Langman, Slender Threads

It makes sense to me, too. I have a need to do. While I still can. Perhaps I try to do too much, but, hey, I’ve got less time than I thought I had. I’ve got stuff I need to do in that time.

And a lot of that stuff is the creative sort of stuff. Writing blogs, painting pictures – the sort of stuff that might outlast me. The sort of stuff that might help other people, or that they might like to keep on their wall, say, and take pleasure in looking at. I don’t think this sort of desire is unique to Parkinson’s, nor that it is necessarily caused by Parkinson’s. But I do think that the urgency to do – to do now – is a result of having Parkinson’s; of knowing what might be taken away from you.

Secondary to this need, but a strong supporter of it, is another part of the knowledge imparted to us by the medical profession’s experience of Parkinson’s:

Use it or lose it.

is the brutal, not entirely honest message (we’re going to lose it anyhow, us Parkies – the main uncertainty is when). So it does make sense. Do it now. Keep doing it. And by doing it, you might just retain the ability to do it for as long as you can.

Pencils are one of the most creative things that I can think of.
Writing, drawing, planning…

I don’t know if this is a perspective specific to the young onset Parkie, but it does seem to an attitude expressed by many of the younger Parkies that I have encountered.

People mostly ignored the T-shirt, too. (It has a print of a painting on it; I only had one coat hanger, but there were more t-shirts.) Along with the rest of the merchandise.

They did, however, look at the paintings, which was the whole point of the exercise – and I sold a few. I’m a terrible salesperson, so this is quite an achievement.

A more complete report can be found on my art blog; you may also be interested to note that I have put a few Bromley Project books on Amazon. The other book titles are set to follow…

I have no connection with Bromley whatsoever… except that I managed to connect with somene who lives there and somehow, between us, we cooked up the idea of my doing a few paintings of the area (Bromley is both town and borough, and has lots of lovely countryside that I didn’t really paint much of at all; this is a predominantly urban project). This turned into my Bromley Project, subtitled “A Day in Bromley”, because that is how long I was there.

But this coming Sunday, me and my Bromley Project are going back to Bromley. We’re going to sit in a shipping container turned pop up art gallery and be part of the official Bromley Arts Festival. And joining us, sitting quietly in a corner, will be a Parkinson’s UK collecting tin.

I’ve also got some postcards of my Mervyn Peake entry to sell. Every single penny of the sales from those will also go to Parkinson’s UK.